


Cherry Bomb

by fashionablenerd



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2175945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fashionablenerd/pseuds/fashionablenerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a jaded ex-Warehouse agent returns to expose them all, the team must over come obstacles to protect the Warehouse, and each other. Post series finale. Warning: Character death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cherry Bomb - Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to preface this story a little bit before we get started. I was slightly disappointed with how the series finished up, so I thought I would write what I had been wanting to see in the final season. I have plans to keep this story running for quite some time, with turbulence and angst and love and snark. It will be written Game of Thrones style; each chapter will follow a different character. It is a WIP at the moment, but I would love to hear from you guys as I go along. I plan on posting a new chapter once a week, every Thursday, if possible. Alright, without further ado, here we go.

**1997**

Special Agent Jack Deakin watched as the setting unfolded in slow motion. The cake on the picnic table suddenly exploded in a shower of pink and purple frosting as the birthday party erupted into a brightly painted crime scene. His feet were rooted in place as lovingly wrapped boxes went flying, chunks of sod and soil kicked up from the ground, and a sparkling trick candle bounced off his chest.

"Daddy!"

Time fast forwarded as his brain registered the events playing out in front of him. He frantically searched the small yard until he saw a flash of blond pigtail as it disappeared behind the table. Scanning the skies, he spotted a man hovering above everyone's heads with his arms spread wide like an over sized marionette puppet. He met Jack's gaze with eyes wide in a manic trance as crackling red energy spread up his arms from two tightly banded cuffs on both of his wrists. When the field of energy reached the man's shoulders, he thrust his arms forward, pouring crimson lightning from his fingertips. The man began to seize in mid-air, sending the lightning dancing in every direction before he plummeted to the ground. As the man crashed into the rose bushes that framed the modestly sized house, Jack's feet finally broke from the grass, allowing him to approach the too quiet picnic table. Heart clenched, he slowly made his way around the splintered table, chanting to himself _everything is okay, everything is fine, she is okay, she is fine, why is she so quiet, oh god, no -_

He nearly collapsed at the sight of her lying there in the grass, almost serene as if she was merely sleeping. His throat closed, and suddenly the world was blurry as he struggled to breathe. Dropping to his knees, Jack carefully gathered the tiny girl into his lap and brushed the stray hair away from her forehead.

"It's okay, Daddy's here now," he whispered as he cradled her in his arms.

"Jack..."

Looking up at the man he called his partner standing in the yard's gate, surveying the backyard with his Tesla gun drawn and a horrified expression on his face. He remembered when he introduced her to his partner, whom she promptly declared to be her Uncle Artie, much to his distaste. She had been so delighted when he showed her the Warehouse and all of its' endless wonder. Her little nose had scrunched in seriousness when she promised she wouldn't tell anyone about the Warehouse, extending her pinky to lock with his own to seal the deal. He had carried her out to the car, much as he was now, after she had succumbed to exhaustion. He had tucked her into her big girl bed and kissed her goodnight when she had thanked him for taking her to the Warehouse that had smelled of apples.

**2014**

The days following the memory share around the Round Table soon turned to weeks, and then to months as Pete, Myka, Claudia, Steve, and Artie fell back into their routines within the Warehouse.

Mrs. Frederick began spending more time with Claudia as she focused on shaping the young woman into Caretaker material. When their time was spent within the walls of the Warehouse, Steve joined them as he explored his role sorting both the artifacts waiting to be inventoried, and new artifacts as they were collected. Their time together solidified their partnership not only as agents, but as integral pieces of the Warehouse 13 puzzle.

Pete and Myka's relationship proceeded to bloom in the way all new couples begin; whispered laughter when they should be paying attention, stolen glances when they thought no one was looking, and hastily smoothing clothing when caught.

Artie continued his role as disgruntled father figure to his team, but would earnestly deny having ever shown his soft side to anyone.

Even the Warehouse itself seemed grateful of its' agents efforts to keep it firmly rooted in South Dakota, for the time being anyhow. Apples were occasionally found throughout the shelves, and Claudia was only zapped during her lessons with Mrs. F. when she needed a nudge of guidance. As a result of the structure expanding the previous year, the balls of static electricity that were known to bounce among the artifacts had greatly reduced in number. The Pete Cave was continuously stocked with everyone's favorite snacks without Claudia having to sneak in to refill the mini fridge. The Warehouse collected its' band of misfit agents, and had provided a home, and a purpose, for each and every one of them.


	2. Cherry Bomb: Pete

"Ow!"

Pete's hand stung as he pouted at Myka for swatting him away. He couldn't help it if his hands had minds of their own. Maybe if she wasn't wearing a sleeveless blue shirt that gave him perfect access to the backs of her arms, which he knew were exceptionally ticklish. His fingers were barely grazing the exposed flesh when she used her notepad to thwart his touch with a loud smack. He narrowed his eyes at her, determined to trace the barely visible freckles that he discovered one afternoon when he had pulled her into a corner of the Warehouse.

They were sitting in the sun room of Mrs. Parker's Louisiana home, waiting for her to return from the kitchen. The old widow had refused their offer to help, proclaiming a good hostess always provided for her guests. Myka ignored his wounded gaze but her lips twitched as she tried not to smile as Mrs. Parker bustled into the room, carrying a tray of iced tea and shortbread cookies.

"...now, he normally is a very nice young man," positioning the tray in front of the agents, she settled into a worn wicker chair that had faded in the sun, "I just don't know what came over him. He's been helping with the chores around the farm, ever since Mr. Parker passed last spring, may he rest in peace."

Pete's mind wandered as she recounted how Bobby O'Connell had found an old family Stetson in her barn and went on a rampage that was worthy of a classic western villain. His eyes skimmed over the his partner's bare shoulders, tinged pink from the sun and lack of sunscreen. Myka shot him a warning glance, as if she could feel him watching her. Giving her an innocent grin, he reached for a cookie as she returned her attention to gathering information on their ping. It was never easy for Pete to keep his hands to himself, especially when the skin that his fingers itched to caress was so tantalizingly near. Field work with Myka had always been his favorite part of this job, doubly so now that she was returning his affections.

Myka, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. She was frustratingly composed while in public, and was somehow immune to his charms, no matter how hard he tried. It was a personal goal of his to crack the shell of professionalism she kept in place when they were on a job.

Playing the role of house guest, he helped himself to the iced tea and more than his fair share of the cookies. As he noticed the conversation slowing to a lull, he glanced at his partner as she was putting away the notepad that had been the object of his earlier abuse. Brushing the crumbs from his lap, he plastered a winning smile on his face, and thanked his host for the refreshments. Myka handed Mrs. Parker a business card, and asked that she call if she remembered any details.

"I don't know how you do it," Pete declared as they were walking to their rental car. He squinted into the setting sun, wishing he had remembered his sunglasses.

Pausing at the open passenger door, she raised a hand to shade her eyes so she could see him over the roof of the sedan. "Do what?"

"I don't know how you can resist all of this," gesturing to himself as he puffed up his chest and waggled his eyebrows in her direction, "whenever you're near me."

Myka stared at him for a beat, then burst out laughing as she ducked into the car.

"I didn't think it was that funny," Pete grumbled as he got behind the wheel and started driving back into town.

The car was quiet save for the rustling of paperwork that Myka was shuffling through. He watched her in his peripheral vision as her brows furrowed, and she tapped a pen against lips that were tight with concentration. Without shifting her attention from her notes, she leaned forward to open the glove box and plucked a Twizzler (sugar free, of course) from the crinkling packaging. Deciding 5 minutes was the longest he could go without talking, he broke the silence.

"So what's the verdict?"

Myka finished her Twizzler before responding, "Mrs. Parker mentioned Bobby finding a hat in the barn the day before the bank heists started. We need to go talk to his parents and see if he had gotten anything else recently."

"An artifact that turns you into a wild west bank robber," Pete laughed, "How bad ass is that?"

Gravel crunched as the car turned into the entrance of the small motel they were staying at. Artie had initially protested the two of them sharing a room while 'on the clock' but quickly changed his mind when Myka pointed out they would be cutting job related costs down if they only had to book one room.

With a rumbling stomach, Pete unlocked the motel door and ushered his partner into the small room.

"How can you possibly be hungry?" Myka asked as she dropped her bag onto the foot of the bed, "You just ate your weight in cookies."

"What, I'm a growing boy!" He ducked as a pillow came flying at him, "You think we can order take out?"


	3. Cherry Bomb: Steve

Steve Jinks opened his eyes while sliding off the stool that stood vigil in the center of the intricately carved Feng Shui Spiral.  Scanning the symbols that surrounded him, his gaze found the shining symbol that indicated where the artifact he held should be shelved.  He filled out the card that hung from the item, and placed it on the "To Be Shelved" rack, careful not to jostle the rest of the artifcats that he had sorted that day.  Satisfied with his work, he turned around to see Claudia leaning against the doorway, her ever watchful honey colored eyes tracking his movement.  


"Did you know I can feel when you're working in here?" she asked him, an odd expression on her face, "It's kind of funny.. funny weird, not funny ha-ha.. I had this feeling in my chest that you were here.  Almost like a string was tugging me through the Warehouse in this direction."  


As Steve absorbed this information, she took slow steps around the perimeter of the room, trailing her fingertips against the wall.  Her movements were fluid, as if she was flowing along a current that was only affecting the future Care Taker.

"And here I thought it was my magnetism," he frowned when his comment didn't elicit a response, "Hey, are you okay?"

Taking long strides across the room, he stood in front of Claudia, who stopped and seemed to be looking through him, beyond him.  Gripping her shoulders, he was relieved to see her gaze clear and her attention snapped to him.   


"There you are.  Where'd you go just now?"

"For a second, I swear I could feel where everyone was in the Warehouse," she shook her head, "It's gone now, but dude!  I was like, a walking talking Marauder's Map!"  


"A what map?" At Clauda's offended double take, he raised his hands in surrender, "Forget I asked!  But seriously, have you told Mrs. F about this?  Is this supposed to happen?"

"I don't know!  It's not like she gave me a copy of What to expect when you're expecting a friggin' Warehouse," she narrowed her eyes at him, "I'm making you watch Harry Potter later."  


Before he could respond, she spun on her heels in a blur of copper hair, yelled over her shoulder, "Mischief managed!" while practically skipping out of the sorting room.

All Steve could do was watch as she retreated down the hallway, not quite sure he understood what had just happened.   With a shrug, he raised his arms above his head to stretch out the kinks in his back from sitting on the stool all morning.  Collecting his shoes from where he'd taken them off, he navigated his way back towards the main office to check in with Artie.  


After poking his head into the office, only to be ignored by Artie while he was arguing with someone on his Farnsworth, Steve headed back to the Bed and Breakfast he called home. With Claudia still working in the Warehouse, and Pete and Myka still in Louisiana, Steve took advantage of the empty B&B. Plugging Claudia's iPod into the speaker dock, even thought he would profusely deny enjoying her taste of music, he cranked the volume and got to work. Since Abigail was still "abroad" with the regents, he had taken it upon himself to keep up with her usual daily tasks; watering the plants, distributing mail, and gathering the belongings strewn along the downstairs into individual piles for each agent to take upstairs. Mrs. F had entrusted him with the B&B's business credit card to keep the pantry filled so no one went hungry. Some days he felt like a glorified babysitter, but he had surprised himself by enjoying the busy work, having always hoped to purchase his own home one day. This would have to do for now.

It was during an especially upbeat song that he was discovered in the kitchen with a towel slung over one shoulder and a broom in his grip. The music abruptly stopped, and he froze when he heard someone clear their throat. Squeezing his eyes shut, Steve counted to 5 and slowly turned around to come face to face with none other than Mrs. Frederick herself. He saw her eyes flit from the towel to the broom, from the smudge of dust across his forehead to bottle of window cleaner hanging from his back pocket.

"I apologize for interrupting, Mr. Jinks," he cocked his head at the slight indication that she was lying, but she continued before he could say anything, "I have a proposition for you."

Two hours, 4 cups of coffee, and a stack of paperwork later, Steve Jinks was the proud owner of the Bed and Breakfast.  Abigail's services were needed overseas and didn't have a definite timeline of when, or if, she would be returning to the States.  Steve had just signed the last of the boxes marked 'X,' and was clipping the keyring to his belt loop when Claudia burst through the front door with Artie trailing along behind her.  They were in the midst of an argument regarding the logistics of a remote controlled goo-drone when Claudia realized who was in the parlor with her partner and stopped dead in her tracks.  Nearly colliding with his young cohort, Artie took in the scene before him.  


"Arthur.  Claudia," Mrs. F inclined her head in their direction, then turned back to Steve, "Take care, Steven."

"You know," Claudia made a point of looking him up and down, "when I said we needed a cleaning fairy, I didn't mean literally."


	4. Cherry Bomb: Claudia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudia's chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day late, and I apologize for that. I took a sick day yesterday and didn't touch the computer much. But here we go!

"Is she always like this?" Claire whispered as she leaned toward Steve.

"Oh yeah," he responded, "Especially when she's excited."

They were sitting at the dining table in the Bed and Breakfast, watching as Claudia was darting room to room, up and down the stairs, stringing balloons and banners that boasted, "Happy Birthday Joshua and Claire!"

The small redhead skidded to a stop in front of them, "How are you NOT excited? You haven't seen each other since you were 15!"

"Of course I'm excited, he is my twin brother after all," Claire protested, "I'm just not excited about turning 30 when I was 15 last year. I missed all of the best milestones; graduating high school, being able to vote at 18, or having my first drink at 21!"

"If it makes you feel any better, I also missed the first two," Claudia reminded her, "And I don't technically remember taking my first drink at 21, so..."

"Hello? Anyone home?" The sound of bags hitting the hardwood floor echoed down the hallway.

"Joshua!" Both Donovan girls jumped from their positions and ran towards the front door, with Steve hanging back in the doorway to watch the reunion.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, management at Cern is pretty strict about time off," Joshua stepped back from his sisters and turned his attention to Claire, "Look at you. You got so old!"

Claire scoffed at her brother before smacking the back of his head, "Ha Ha. Very funny. Not everyone is lucky enough to look 23 on their 30th birthday."

"You mean 35th birthday. I know they say memory is the first to go, but come on.." Chuckling as he bent to pick up his luggage, he missed the confused she shot him.

"Let me get that for you," Steve swooped in take the bags from Joshua, "I'll take these to your room so you can catch up."

"You must be Steve. I've heard a lot about you."

Claudia's eyes widened and she jumped to their sides, "Where are my manners? Jinksy, this is Joshua. Joshua, Jinksy. The best gay friend a girl could ever have."

"Now wait a minute," Claire pushed her way between Joshua and Steve, "What do you mean, 35th birthday? Claudia said it's only been 15 years, not 20."

"Yeah, I was 7 when Artie put her into the coma, I was still 22 when Claire woke up. Ergo, 15 years."

"Claude, you were 22 when you and Artie found me a few years ago," his brows furrowed as he stared at his younger sister.

"He's right, Claudia. I didn't put it together until just now, I'm still getting dates wrong," Claire crossed her arms over her chest, "We were born in 1979. We were about to turn 8 when you were born."

"Nooooo, I specifically remember checking myself out of the institution the minute I turned 18," Claudia grabbed her bag from the table near the door and rummaged through the pockets, "Ah hah! Says right here on my license, born in 1991. See?"

Joshua took the plastic card she thrust towards him. Meanwhile, Steve had cocked his head as each Donovan sibling was speaking.

"You're all telling the truth. But how is that possible?"

"Because it`s not!" Claudia proclaimed, "I'm 23. This is your 30th birthday party. Please, just knock it off so we can enjoy being in the same room for the first time in.. in.."

Joshua and Claire shared a glance before moving to her side, but Steve beat them there.

"Breathe, Claudia," cupping her face with his hands, he spoke softly as he searched her panic filled eyes, "Something's not right. What's happened to you?"

With her lower starting to quiver, she threw her arms around her best friend's neck and threatened to collapse. "Do either of you know where to find her birth certificate?"

Claire started to shrug, but had a thought and whirled towards her twin, "Didn't mom and dad keep a safety deposit box?"

Joshua nodded, "We'll have to go to the bank and see if we can gain access to it."

Steve bustled the group towards his little red Prius, punched in the address of the bank in the Donovan's home town in Minnesota, and tried not to think about how his partner's life might be turned upside down.

Claudia sat on the yellow plastic bench and was using a french fry to smear ketchup across the paper wrapper of her uneaten burger.

"What's taking so long?" Dropping the limp fry, she wiped her hands on her jeans and huffed an exasperated sigh.

"I'm sure everything is fine," Steve took a sip from the paper cup as he finished chewing, "There's tons of paperwork that has to be done in situations like this - "

A manilla folder slapping down on the table interrupted his attempts at reassuring her. Claudia looked up at her siblings towering over their seated forms, then back down at the folder with her name neatly typed on a label in front of her.

"Is that...?" her hand hovered just over the packet that held the truth.

"We haven't opened it yet. Go ahead," Joshua nudged the folder closer.

Not needing any further encouragement, she snatched it from the table and tore at the flap that had started to lift from the adhesive holding it closed. Pulling a stack of documents out, she began to shuffle through them.

"Okay, let's see. Social security, nope. Banking records, nope," she continued to flip through the pages, only glancing long enough to confirm it wasn't what she was looking for, "Nope. No. Nada. Ah! Gotcha!"

The table was silent as Claudia's eyes slowly scanned the words on the page. When she took a breath to speak, Steve leaned forward in anticipation.

"Claudia Nicole Donovan. Born July 22nd, 1987. I don't.. I don't understand," Looking up at her siblings' sympathetic expressions, she dropped the paperwork onto the table as if it burned her flesh, "But I have my ID, and.. and everything that got turned in when I started working at the Warehouse.."

An uneasy feeling began to grow in the pit of Steve's stomach at her words.

"Claudia," her eyes slowly dragged to his when she heard her name, "Where did it come from? Who turned in your file to the Regents?"

She stared blankly at him for a beat before anger flashed across her features.

"Artie."


	5. Cherry Bomb: Myka

Myka's attention never wavered from the computer screen as she wrote up her field notes upon returning from Louisiana. Pete sat across the office from her, not working on anything in particular besides practicing his drum solo with a couple of pens. The Warehouse had been disappointingly empty when they had proudly brought home the Stetson that had once belonged to the infamous Butch Cassidy. They had finally caught up to Bobby O'Connell when they helped the local enforcements intercept him as he was racing a stolen horse alongside a speeding train.

Clicking 'Print,' Myka got up and filed the report in the appropriate drawer. The second the drawer clicked shut, Pete pounced. Not waiting for her to turn around, he slid his hands from around her waist to splay across the flatness of her abdomen. Pressing against him, she dropped her head back onto his shoulder to expose the long lines of her neck, to which Pete needed no invitation to attack. Myka shivered as he nipped at the delicate skin protecting her jugular, lips tracing kisses upwards before arriving at his destination. Her back involuntarily arched as he gently took an lobe between his teeth, causing a low rumble of a groan to vibrate against her ear. Pete gripped her hips and with a push and a pull, spun her around to face him. His lips hovered over hers for a single audible heartbeat before Myka shifted onto her toes to close the distance.

It was at this moment that Artie chose to barrel into the office, the heavy door crashing into the wall as it was flung open.

"Oh for the love of -!" he exclaimed as the pair bolted away from each other, "You two are worse than teenagers."

Clearing her throat as she straightened her shirt, Myka stepped away from Pete and slid into one of the chairs idly placed around the small room. She watched as Artie dropped the black bag that never left his side onto his desk and extracted a brown lunch bag that smelled suspiciously like bacon. Pausing before the bag touched the surface of the desk, he craned his neck to turn a scrutinizing eye towards the guilty faced duo.

"I'm going to assume that you two had the decency to keep my desk off limits?" When he was met with wide eyes and sputtering, he plunked the bag down, "Okay then. Tell me about Louisiana."

"Actually, it was pretty interesting," Myka quickly switched into work mode, "The artifact ended up belonging to -"

"Butch Cassidy!" Pete blurted after he had finally recovered from Artie's interruption. Myka raised an eyebrow at him, "What? I wanted to tell him."

The computer screen lit up with a blinking 'AD' alert, "Static must be kicking up again," Artie dug around in his lunch bag, pulled out a cookie and tossed it at Pete, "Make yourself useful, wouldja?"

The cookie was still in mid-air when the door crashed open once more, this time revealing a furious Claudia, a worried Steve, and the confused Donovan twins. Pete caught his treat, took one look at the new arrivals and made a face.

"Hinky vibe incoming," edging towards the door that led to the Warehouse, he threw a wink in Myka's direction, "I'm just gonna make myself scarce now. Good luck."

"What'd I do this time?" Artie questioned without looking up from his BLT, which was now unwrapped and waiting to be eaten. Just as he was about to take a bite, Claudia slapped down the birth certificate that she received from the safety deposit box.

"Care to explain?"

Setting the sandwich back down with a sigh, he turned towards the young woman who he he begun to think of as his own. "This is not how I wanted you to find out."

As Claudia propped a hip against the desk and tightly crossed her arms over her chest and beckoned him to continue, Steve guided Joshua and Claire out onto the mezzanine that overlooked the Warehouse. Myka reluctantly acknowledged the gesture for her to follow, and quietly joined the trio to give the office a level of privacy.

"You have to understand, Claudia, I was protecting you," Artie was saying as the door closed behind them.

Myka leaned against the railing with Steve as Joshua and Claire stood off to the side, heads bowed together as they spoke in hushed tones. Curiosity got the better of her as they all pretended to ignore the muffled shouts coming from the office, and she turned to face the agent beside her.

"I don't know the whole story," he explained before she had a chance to ask.

"Myka? Steve?" Claire's voice interrupted them as she was pointing behind them into the stacks of the Warehouse, "I think something's on fire?"

Spinning in the direction she was pointing, they both swore when they saw black smoke starting to curl upwards along one of the outside aisles of shelving. Myka was already halfway down the stairwell when Steve approached the office and gave a quick knock before opening the door,

"4 years, Artie!" Claudia's anguished cry trickled out from the interior of the small room.

Keeping an eye on the smoke that was rapidly increasing, Myka steadily made her way through the aisles while casting quick glances at the shelved artifacts to assure nothing was out of place. Rounding a corner, she spotted Pete in the middle of an aisle, eyes unfocused as he stood rigidly in place. She took in the artifacts nearest him; an empty microphone stand glinted in the overhead lights, a large stone surrounded by shards of glass perched where it belonged on the floor. and broken pieces of an ancient clay sphere that was the source of brilliant green flames.

"Pete?"

Myka saw his eyes swivel towards her as his lips were moving, but she was unable to hear what he was attempting to say. Lifting a foot to step closer to him, she halted her movements when his eyes widened and frantically rolled from side to side. It was then that she realized something was seriously wrong; the air surrounding him wavered as if an intense heat was emanating from Pete's skin, his jaw was clenched tightly and his muscles were almost vibrating as he resisted involuntary movement forwards. Whipping out her Farnsworth, she watched as Pete's hand slowly started to rise while she waited for someone to pick up.

"Something's not right," she stated matter of factly as Artie's face flickered on the small screen. Pointing the device in Pete's direction, she spoke before Artie could respond, "I need you down here."

Flipping the case closed, she kept her distance as she walked a slow circle around Pete and studied the scene. Recalling information she had read about ancient warfare, water wouldn't be the solution to the Greek fire that was continuing to spread. She was around the corner, strapping on a tank of neutralizer when she heard shouting. Rushing to join the rest of the agents, the first thing she noticed was the distance between Pete's outstretched hand and the large stone was steadily shrinking. Artie was waving his arms above his head as he shouted instructions at Steve and Claudia, who were identifying the artifacts in the immediate vicinity around Pete. Claire and Joshua stood in the background, watching with worried faces.

Moving around the group to douse the burning clay grenades with neutralizer, Myka froze when the air crackled and Claudia gave a startled shout from the backup computer. She was thrown to her knees by a blast of energy that struck the middle of her back, snapping the straps of the tank as it went crashing to the floor. The atmosphere was suddenly heavy and thick, pulsing rhythmically as it prevented her from getting back to her feet. Struggling to turn herself around, the blood drained from her face as she saw Pete crouched inches from the stone, expression wrenched in pain. His shoulders slumped as his bloodshot eyes slowly opened and found her gaze. As she lifted an arm in an attempt to reach him, a smile filled with sorrow ghosted across his lips that turned to agony as the energy filling the scene ignited in a final earth shattering explosion that filled her vision with a brilliant white light.

The ringing in her ears painfully cancelled all other sounds as Myka was pulled to a standing position. Her vision finally cleared to show Pete collapsed atop the foreboding stone with Artie already by his side. She watched as he carefully placed a hand on Pete's neck, causing his too prone body to slide towards the ground. She flung herself in his direction, only to be held back by the hands that had brought her to her feet. She felt her throat go raw as she screamed and sobbed to deaf ears for him to get up. Knees buckling, she slipped from the grasp of those who held her and crawled the rest of the way to him. She clutched at him, begged him to open his eyes, pounded as his chest before finally tucking herself against him and weeping until giving in to exhaustion.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..please don't hate me..


	6. Cherry Bomb: Artie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I want to thank all of you who have stuck around after the last chapter.. I won't be surprised if I have lost a few readers. But! The story is just beginning, and I have some pretty big plans for everyone. As always, comments/questions/critiques always welcome.
> 
> Here goes Artie's chapter.

Artie stood in the doorway of his office, staring at the contents in disbelief. He had been on his way to contact Mrs. Frederick, but was greeted with an office that looked like it had been turned upside down. Drawers hung open with paperwork spilling out onto the floor, his computer chair had been upended onto its' side, and the monitor had a spiderweb crack in one corner. Standing the chair upright and sinking into it, a sigh escaped his lips as he rested his head in his hands. He spied the durational spectrometer in pieces under his desk, looking as if it had met its' end with the heel of a boot.

Squaring his shoulders and setting his resolve, he used his Farnsworth to place a call to Mrs. F. With a heavy heart, he explained the situation at hand. After much cajoling, he and the other agents had been able to convince Myka to let Claudia and the twins take her back to the Bed and Breakfast. Steve had immediately dialed Dr. Vanessa's number, who promised to be there soon. He had stayed behind while the rest began to leave, settling onto the floor with a small scripture book and a promise to Myka that Pete's spirit would be treated with the love and respect he deserved as he moved on.

As Artie began to gather the loose papers from the floor, Steve somberly entered the office and stopped short when he saw the mess. Taking stock of the state of the room, he briefly placed his hand on Artie's shoulder before stooping down to help clean up. The men worked quietly as they moved around the small room, stacking the paper to be re-filed, setting furniture straight and piling pieces of broken knick knacks and artifacts in the corner. Artie plugged in the computer monitor and crossed his fingers as the machine booted up. His relief that the screen displayed his desktop despite the crack was quickly smothered when he could no longer put off the inevitable. He pulled out the small camera Claudia has given him for his last birthday that contained photographs of the artifacts involved with Pete's death and started searching the databases for matches.

"Hey Artie.."

Looking up when nothing more was said, the older man cocked his head to the side when he saw Steve staring at the piles of paperwork in front of him with a puzzled expression on his face. Artie stood and moved to his side to peer down at stacks of paper organized by agent.

"I didn't put it together until just now," Steve began as Artie idly flipped through each stack, "But as I started to organize everything to be filed, I noticed a trending topic. Each agents' pile has information on -"

"Their 'Ones.'" Artie finished his sentence as he plucked out the official form recognizing his son as the one person he was allowed to introduce to the Warehouse.

"What I can't figure out is why someone would want this information," Steve shook his head, "Or who would have a use for it."

It was this moment that the front door to the office opened swiftly, startling both men as Mrs. Frederick ushered Dr. Vanessa Calder in from the Umbilicus hallway. The group was silent for a moment, each person briefly making eye contact with each other, before Steve jumped into action.

"Dr. Calder, I'll walk you down to.." he hesitated a moment as he strode towards the two women, "I'll walk you down into the Warehouse."

A sympathetic look flashed across Vanessa's face as she nodded, her gaze lingering on Artie for a beat, and followed him out. Mrs. F clasped her hands in front of her and regarded Artie with a look that he couldn't quite read. Papers fluttered to the desk, momentarily forgotten as he scrubbed his face with his palms and took a deep breath. Avoiding her gaze, he hurried back to his computer and began typing in earnest as he addressed his superior.

"I scoured the database for the artifacts that we collected earlier," he pulled up pictures as Mrs F made her way to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder at the screen.

"This microphone once belonged to the one and only Adolf Hitler," Artie jabbed a finger at the monitor, "It gives the speaker the power to influence another to do their bidding, not being able to stop until the task is completed. And, it's currently MIA," Mrs. F frowned, but didn't speak as Artie's agitation steadily grew, causing him to stab at his keyboard and threaten to knock the monitor over as he pointed at the images, "The Japanese call this stone the Sessho-seki."

"The Killing Stone," Mrs Frederick finally broke her silence, "Believed to be haunted by Hoji, killing whoever came into contact with it."

"I don't think I need to spell out what happened with Pete," Artie twisted to look up at her, lip curling with disgust. Unable to sit still any longer, he flew from his chair and paced back and forth between the desk and cluttered tables. Spying the One registration papers amidst the mess, he snatched them up again and waved them in Mrs F's direction.

"And what's more, Pete's.. death," Artie stumbled over Pete's name before continuing, "was used as a distraction for what the intruder was really after."

Mrs. Frederick's frown deepened as she studied the contents of the stacked forms that Artie had indicated. She sat in the nearest chair, and intertwined her fingers together as they rested on the table top. Artie resumed his near frantic pacing, murmuring to himself with wild arm gestures.

"We will launch an investigation of the break-in immediately," she declared after a quiet moment, "The person who did this knew what they were looking for. This information must not make it into the public's eye, for everyone's sake."

Artie spun mid-pace to respond, but found he was once again alone in the office. Running his fingers through his short hair, a frustrated sound rumbled in the back of his throat as he kicked a small trash bin into the nearest wall.


	7. Cherry Bomb: Myka

Three days later, the doors to the Bed and Breakfast were opened to the people trickling in to pay their last respects to Pete Latimer. Myka stood in the front room, a plastic smile affixed to her face as she was consoled by passing guests. She made a break for it before another co-worker could make eye contact and rushed to the kitchen, nearly knocking over the damned flower wreath that had an over sized picture of Pete's face plastered across its' front. One of the caterers startled as she sagged against the closed door, squeezing her eyes shut and rubbing her temples. When she looked up again, the caterer was quietly arranging some of the small finger foods that Pete had loved on a serving platter. Lifting it to rest on her shoulder, the younger girl briefly met Myka's' gaze, and returned her watery smile with a sympathetic one.

Once she was alone in the kitchen, she wandered to the fridge, idly opening it without any real plans of eating. When she spotted the plate with toothpick speared cheese cubes, however, she reached in and brought the whole dish to the small tiled island. Pulling up one of the bar stools, she settled onto it with a sigh and popped a cube of cheese into her mouth.

This was how Helena eventually found her; leaning over the tiled table with an elbow propped on the surface, head cradled in one hand while the other continued to snag toothpicks, eyes unfocused and lost in thought. The door clicking shut brought Myka out of her reverie as she finally blinked and slid her attention towards the interruption without moving her head. She was clearly not expecting to see Helena standing there with a soft smile on her lips, and nearly fell off the stool as she shot to her feet. Helena was by her side in an instant, hands reaching out to make sure Myka didn't slip.

Myka stared at her friend for a moment before she felt the unshed tears well up and threaten to spill. She was suddenly engulfed in an embrace, and before she could think too much about it her arms had snaked around the other woman's slim waist. Tears flowed while Helena made calm shushing noises in her ear.

"I didn't think you were going to come today," Myka spoke quietly between sniffles.

Helena leaned back slightly so she could look at her, "Oh Myka, I will always be here when you need me," with a quirk of her lips, she slid her hands so they rested on Myka's forearms, "Wells and Bering, remember?"

"Bering and Wells," Myka couldn't hide the the amusement in her voice as she corrected Helena.

"Ah, there she is!" A grin flashed across Helena's face as she stepped back and looked around the kitchen. The distinct sound of glass breaking could be heard from the front room, and when Myka moved towards the door, Helena snagged her arm and pushed her back towards the bar stool

"Let them handle it. Come, tell me why you're hiding in the kitchen," she instructed while dragging the bar stool's twin over to its' side and sat down, propping her feet on the bottom rung. Choosing a cube of cheese, she gave Myka a pointed look and waited until she sat before enjoying the small snack.

"I just couldn't be out there anymore, with everyone looking at me with pity all over their faces," instead of sitting, she opened the fridge again and grabbed two bottles of beers without looking at the labels. Placing one in front of Helena, she tipped hers in silent cheers before bringing it to her lips.

"We've never had alcohol in this place before," she made a face as she set the bottle down, "One of Pete's college buddies brought a six pack."

The two women sat in silence for a moment, taking swigs from the bottles between bites of cheese.

"We were working on a case a few weeks back," Myka's eyes were down, fingers fidgeting with a toothpick, "We were sent to New York where this woman was printing predictions in her local newspaper article. There was this artifact, a piece of the altar of the Delphic Oracle that had been set into a broach, that was allowing her to see glimpses of the future. When we got there, the first thing she said to me was that my newborn son would be the most beautiful thing that I'd ever seen."

She paused, her breath hitching in remembrance. Helena reached out and covered one of Myka's hands with her own.

"I can still see the way Pete was looking at me in the moment, He had this look on his face, like I was this precious thing. But, he's gone now," Myka's voice trembled as she looked up at Helena, "He's gone, and now I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Oh, darling," Leaning forward, Helena clasped her hands around Myka's, "You live. You carry Pete in your heart, and you live. Wouldn't you want him to do the same?" Her dark curls lightly bounced as she nodded, "See? There you have it. Show the world that his spirit lives on in you. You are the Myka Bering you are today, because you were loved by Pete Latimer."

Taking a deep breath, Myka let her words sink in before meeting her eyes and gave a shaky smile, "I think I can do that."

Grinning, Helena stood while still holding onto Myka's hands, pulling her to her feet. Giving her hands one last squeeze, she nodded towards the closed door.

"Ready to get back out there?"

Squaring her shoulders, Myka pushed open the door with Helena closely following behind, expecting to be surrounded by the guests she had invited to the Bed and Breakfast. She was not prepared, however, an angry Claudia nearly colliding with her as she stormed away from Artie, who's head hung in forlorn resignation. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder blade as she stumbled back into Helena, wincing as the the front door slammed with glass shuddering force.


	8. Cherry Bomb: Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg guys, I want to apologize profusely for missing an update last week. Life sure has a mean right hook. Anyhow, here we go with Steve's chapter. The story line will start picking up next chapter.

Steve's shoulders slumped as he watched Myka fleeing from the service to the solitude of the kitchen. In all honesty, he wasn't surprised that she felt the need to escape, but he had hoped she would stick it out. He winced as she narrowly missed running full force into the flower wreath, causing it to teeter precariously before righting itself. The door opened again a few moments later, revealing one of the caterers with blonde hair tightly secured in a bun at her neck, and a tray filled with finger foods on her shoulder.

"Give her time, Mr. Jinks," Jumping at the voice behind him, Steve spun to see Mrs. Fredericks sitting comfortably in one of the many chairs of the front room. She was sipping from a small teacup adorned with delicately painted flowers, eyes meeting his over the rim.

Setting the cup down on the side table next to her chair, she stood and briefly placed a hand on his shoulder as she moved to step past him.

"The service was beautiful." Pausing, she gave him a meaningful smile, "Pete would have loved it."

Failing to find words to respond, Steve nodded and returned her smile as she continued towards the door. He was gathering the teacup and matching plate from the side table when he heard a voice he didn't recognize. Turning around, he saw a slim woman with chestnut-brown hair greeting Mrs. Frederick as they passed each other in the foyer. The woman, whom he was struggling to remember where he'd seen her before, nodded at Mrs. F before heading towards the closed kitchen door. He made a mental note to ask Myka about her later, but decided to give them privacy and stacked the dishes on the table nearest the kitchen.

Spotting the Donovan siblings huddled together near the front windows of the Bed and Breakfast, Steve made his way through the guests to join them. They were speaking in low tones, with Claire giving her younger sister a doubtful look.

"All we're saying is," Joshua was saying as Steve approached, "Can't this wait for tomorrow?"

Claudia took a breath to respond when she noticed Joshua's eyes flicker behind her just as Steve's hand landed lightly on her elbow in greeting.

"What're you guys talking about?" Taking stock of how the twin's refused to meet his gaze, he turned to the youngest sibling in question. He narrowed his eyes as Claudia's face split into a syrupy sweet smile. When he didn't give in, her smile faltered before falling with a sigh.

"It's nothing. Ah!" Pressing fingers to his mouth to prevent him from calling out her obvious lie, she continued, "It's nothing to worry your pretty head about. Now, I need to find Artie."

Turning on her heel before anyone could protest, she stalked off in search of her father figure. Steve turned an inquisitive glare to Joshua and Claire, who met his eyes with matching blank stares.

"She needs closure," Claire finally said with a shake of her head.

"How is she?" Steve gave one last look over his shoulders, "I've barely seen her since our little road trip."

The twins shared a glance before Joshua spoke up.

"She's.. well.. she's not good," he raised a shoulder in an apologetic shrug as Steve frowned, "I mean, her life just got flipped upside down. She's handling it the best she can."

Steve was quiet, crossing his arms over his chest as chewed on his bottom lip in thought. Reaching out to place a hand on his arm, Claire returned his surprised glance with a gentle expression.

"We wanted to thank you," she smiled as Steve furrowed his brow at her words, "She talks about you all the time, and we just wanted you to know that we're grateful that you've been there for her when we couldn't be."

"She's a lot like my sister was, when we were younger," he said softly, his eyes on his shoes, "We all need someone to keep us out of trouble, right? Claudia is my chance to return the favor.

"And let me tell you, she doesn't make it easy," Looking up with an amused smirk, he added, "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Laughter bubbled between the twins as they agreed with him.

"So," Steve cleared his throat, "What about you guys? What's next for you?"

"Well, I still have my research at Cern," Joshua chimed in first, "But I figured I"d hang around here for a bit, now that the Donovan's are all in one place again."

"And I'll be going with Joshie when he leaves," Claire elbowed her brother as he cringed at the nick name, "After that, I'll go backpacking for a while. See the world."

Nudging Claire in retaliation, she stumbled a bit and shot a hand out to the window sill to steady herself. Instead, her hand collided with a stray tumbler glass that someone had left, knocking it to the hardwood floor to shatter.

"Oh my god! I am so so sorry!" Claire exclaimed, bending down to pick up the larger pieces of broken glass. Striding across the room to the closet under the stairs, Steve rummaged through until he found the little dust pan. It was as he was helping Claire clean up the shards of glass that shouting could be heard voices raising in argument from behind the closed doors of the small dining room.


	9. Cherry Bomb: Claudia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys.. I apologize for the absence. My muse seems to have taken a vacation, but I haven't given up. I'm still writing, albeit much slower than normal. I will continue to update as I finish the chapters, but I don't know if I"ll be able to keep up the weekly updates anymore. I thank anyone who decided to stick with me to see this through.

Immediately following the funeral service, Claudia pulled her Prius to a stop outside of the Bed and Breakfast. As Claire and Joshua got out from the back seat, she stayed still for a moment, hands still on the steering wheel. Claire knocked on her window, with her head tilted in silent inquiry. Taking a deep breath, she extracted herself from the car, smoothed down her blouse, and joined her siblings as they headed towards the front door.

Casting a glance around the front room, Claudia's gaze rested on Myka as she was regaled with tales of a young Pete Latimer by his old college room-mate. She cringed at the thought, and deftly slid in front of the man who she was willing to bet piqued in high school. Myka mouthed 'thank you' as Claudia opened her arms to pull her into a hug. She could hear the man mumble something about getting a drink and walked away from the hugging women. Waiting until he was clear across the room, she let go of Myka and grinned at her.

"Are you all right?" Myka beat her to the punch and spoke first.

"Isn't that my line?" Claudia's smile wavered before continuing, "But to answer your question, I'm working on it."

"Claud.."

Slightly cocking her head to the side, Myka's expression softened with sympathy for the younger woman, which Claudia immediately waved off with a scoff.

"Today is not about me, Myka. Now, as long as you're okay," She paused long enough for Myka to nod, "I'm gonna go save my darling siblings from their social awkwardness," Claudia tipped her head towards Claire and Joshua standing by themselves as the rest of the guests ignored them. Hesitating a moment, she suddenly launched herself at Myka, catching her off guard as she wrapped her friend in a tight embrace.

"I really miss him," Claudia whispered into Myka's hair as she returned the hug.

Stepping back, Claudia cleared her throat as she schooled her expression to hide the emotions she had allowed to come to the surface. Turning to leave, she looked back at Myka over her shoulder, "By the way. How much do you want to destroy that wreath?"

Myka let out a surprised chortle before slapping a hand over her mouth as she received curious looks from those closest to her. Claudia was rewarded with a push towards her family as she smirked. As she made her way across the room, the smile she had given Myka slipped as her troubling thoughts caught up with her. She pushed them aside as she reached the twins, extending her arms to lay across their shoulders as she stood between them.

"Have either of you seen He Who Shall Not Be Named?" Groaning at the masks of confusion on Joshua and Claire's faces, she dropped her arms, "Seriously? Ugh, never mind, I don't know why I keep bothering. Is Artie around?"

"I think I saw him near the dining room. But, Claudia," Claire grabbed her sister's arm as she attempted to turn around, "There's a time and place for that kind of conversation. This isn't either."

"What? All I want to do is ask a simple question, what's so inappropriate about that?" Claudia sighed as Claire's eyes narrowed in doubt, "Okay, not a simple question. But he's been avoiding me for days, and this is the first time I've been in the same room as him."

"All we're saying is," Joshua's voice was soft, "can't this wait for tomorrow?"

Claudia had a response ready for him when she saw his gaze move behind her for an instant, and wasn't surprised to feel a hand on her elbow.

"What're you guys talking about?" Jinksy stepped into her peripheral vision, turning his attention to her when the twins made no move to respond.

_Traitors,_ she thought as she pasted a smile on her face to deflect his attention from the elephant in the room. She felt her face twitch as Steve didn't look at all convinced of her innocence. Feeling ashamed for trying to sidestep her best friend, she sighed and let the smile fall.

"It's nothing. Ah!" Claudia didn't even try to cover up the lie, and pushed fingers against Steve's lips when he opened his mouth, "It's nothing to worry your pretty head about. Now, I need to find Artie."

She could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her back as she walked away without further explanation. Weaving around guests and furniture, she spied Artie near the dining room, just as Claire thought, eying the tray held out to him by the caterer. His fingers wiggled indecisively before delicately plucking a small treat and bringing it to his mouth with a smile of thanks to the blond woman. He was pulling the toothpick from the snack when he noticed he had been spotted. Claudia slipped her arm around his and tugged him into the small dining room before he could flee.

"We need to talk, Artie," closing the doors behind her for privacy, she turned back towards him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Okay," Glancing from her to the now mangled hors d'oeuvre in his hand and back to meet her eyes again, Artie forfeited the food to the table before brushing the crumbs from his fingers, "Let's talk."

Claudia was silent for moment. thrown off by the lack of resistance, before finding her voice again.

"How long have you known?"

"Diving right in, aren't we," Attempting to cover his muttering with a cough when Claudia glared at him, Artie shuffled his feet, "Since you first joined the team."

"Were you planning on telling me?" Running her hands through her hair, she took a breath to keep her cool.

"Of course I was. Claudia, I.." As his words faltered, Claudia's agitation continued to grow, "You were so.. so.."

"What, Artie?" Snapping at him, she could no longer stand still and began pacing, "What was I, that you couldn't tell me what happened, that four years of my life were gone? What could possibly -"

"Dr. Michener broke you!" Artie stepped in and clasped her shoulders, "He strapped you down and broke you, Claudia. He broke your spirit, stripped away who you were until only a shell remained. You want to know why I didn't tell you? I didn't think you'd recover from that."

Claudia didn't move from his grip as she gaped at him, Artie's outburst of new information sinking in. He dropped his hands and turned away from her, pushing his fingers through his graying curls. His back was still to her when he started speaking again.

"Michener somehow got a hold of a piece of equipment from the 1940's.. the original electroshock therapy device patented by Dr Cerletti," Turning his head slightly, Claudia could see his profile as he kept his eyes down, "Powerful enough to cause amnesia, so patients didn't actually remember the ' _therapy_.'"

Artie spit the word out bitterly and finally spun to face her, his eyes flashing with ire.

"Over the years, the severity of the amnesia escalated as more and more patients received electroshock treatment," He began moving around the room as he spoke, "As an artifact, it erases the memories surrounding the treatment, and leaves the patient vulnerable to suggestion. By alternating which device was used on you, he was able to keep you as long as he did. He manipulated you into believing your stay was much shorter, in order to keep you in residence so he could continue his experiments. But when you found me, and I agreed to take you under my wing, you.. Your subconscious was on the brink of cracking as it was, and each encounter with Joshua was eating away at you. In the state you were in, your mind wouldn't have been able to handle it."

Artie stopped pacing to pull out a chair from the dining table and collapsed onto it, briefly bracing his elbows on his knees and cradling his head in his hands. Claudia was frozen in place, lashes fluttering as her eyes moved rapidly around the room and her lungs filled with shallow breaths. Spots were beginning to fill her vision when she felt Artie step next to her and place a hand on her shoulder. Fury ripped through her and, wrenching away from his touch, she backed away from him like a cornered animal.

"You had no right to keep this from me," Lip curling in a snarl, she continued before Artie could respond, "My life doesn't belong to me anymore. The Warehouse has stolen everything from me. My family, my friends, and now my mind! And you, Artie. I thought I could trust you. I was wrong."

Silence hung thickly between them as Claudia fought to control her composure and Artie stared at her with sorrow etched across his face. Chest heaving as she gulped in air, Claudia willed herself not to cry in front of him, and stiffly walked towards the closed doors.

"Claudia.."

"No, Artie," Placing a hand on the door knob, she spoke with her back to him, her voice tight and throat constricted, "I can't do this anymore."

Without another word, Claudia pulled open the door and rushed towards the front door. She was dimly aware of her surroundings, not acknowledging the body she nearly collided with as she kept her eyes trained on the floor. She flew outside, flinging the front door behind her hard enough that she could hear the tinkling of glass threatening to break as she fell into her car. Clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles, Claudia drove away from the Warehouse in a cloud of swirling desert dust.


	10. Fic UPDATE

Hi all.

I've decided to rewrite this fic. I'm unhappy with the direction I started going, and haven't touched it in 2 years. I've got some ideas for the rewrite, but I am open to ideas if you'd like to chime in! I am also always looking for new artifact ideas.

Thank you for those who read and commented the first time around. Hopefully you stick around for the new version.


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